


Rekindling and Rehabilitation

by onemechanicalalligator



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Reunions, Sobriety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onemechanicalalligator/pseuds/onemechanicalalligator
Summary: Post-season 6, Britta goes to a bar and runs into Duncan, who has recently returned to Colorado.
Relationships: Ian Duncan/Britta Perry
Comments: 18
Kudos: 34





	Rekindling and Rehabilitation

**Author's Note:**

> the reddit discord challenged me to write this pairing so here we are!

Jeff had mentioned to Britta that Duncan was back, but she’d kind of forgotten about it as soon as they’d finished talking. Duncan was Jeff’s good friend, but he was always more of an afterthought to her, and she hadn't thought about him much since he'd left.

So when she runs into him one December night at a bar, she's a little surprised, but not caught completely off guard.

He's sitting at the far end, half turned in his seat, nursing something clear and fizzy. He sees her as she walks in, and waves, so she has no choice but to join him. To be honest, she's a little relieved. She came alone.

It isn’t something she does often, but sometimes she just gets the urge to go to a random bar all by herself, one where she’s never worked or made a fool of herself. She really only started doing it once most of her friends left town, because she didn’t like going out with Chang, and Jeff was going on 6 months of sobriety, and she and Craig were never very close. 

She orders a vodka with four olives and then turns to Duncan.

“Fancy running into you here,” Duncan says with a lazy grin, and it makes Britta smile to see he hasn’t really changed.

“Nice to see you,” she says. “How’ve you been?” She takes a sip of her drink.

“Oh, you know how it is,” he says. “You move home to care for an ailing parent, eventually they die, and then you’re on a plane back to America. Land of free refills.” He raises his nearly-empty glass to the bartender, who nods.

“What the hell are you drinking that’s free refills?” Britta asks skeptically.

“Sprite,” Duncan replies happily. “I’m on the wagon.”

“Holy shit,” Britta blurts out before she can stop herself. “I mean, that’s _great._ Does Jeff know?”

“He does,” Ian says. “We’re accountability buddies. That means we go out for a soda every Thursday night and complain and then promise to stay sober until the next week. Except this week he’s out of town, so I came by myself.”

“Wait, you go to a _bar_ to drink soda and celebrate your sobriety?” Britta raises an eyebrow.

“You caught me. No, we usually go to a fast food restaurant.” He makes air quotes around the word ‘restaurant.’ “But since I knew he wasn’t coming this time, I thought I’d test myself.”

“Bold move.”

“A successful one, though,” he says, and smiles. “I’ve been sober for over a year now. It’s finally getting easier.”

“I’m really happy for you,” Britta says. “That’s awesome. Does it...is it a problem if I’m drinking this while we talk? I can switch it out for a soda or something.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Duncan assures her. “But that’s very considerate of you.”

“My parents raised me right,” she says, and then winces, wondering why on earth she said that. Her parents _didn’t_ raise her right, actually. Her parents were kind of awful, actually.

“Ah, I remember your parents,” Duncan says, surprising her.

“You know my _parents?”_ she hisses. “How? Did they give you money, too?”

“They tried,” he admits. “But I couldn’t take it. It didn’t feel right.”

“No one else seemed to have a problem with it,” she grumbles.

“No one else is a psychologist trained to pick up on traits like manipulation and gaslighting,” Duncan says gently. “I don’t know you well, but I know enough to know their story didn’t add up with yours. And it didn’t seem worth the risk to take a gamble on them.”

Britta’s eyes fill with tears. She tries to blink them back, but she’s not quick enough. She lifts a hand and wipes her lower lashes with her sweater.

“Thanks,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, love,” Duncan replies. 

“I’m not used to people taking my side,” she explains. “At least, not when it comes to my parents.”

Duncan shrugs.

“Let’s toast,” he says, raising his glass. “To trusting Britta.”

“To trusting Britta,” she says, laughing, and they clink glasses and take a sip.

She asks him about his time in England, about his family and friends. About his sobriety. He asks her about her job, her friends, her ambitions. He drinks two more glasses of Sprite in the time it takes her to finish her one drink and follow it with a tumbler of water. It starts to get late.

“Forgive me if this is too forward,” Duncan says. “But would you like to come back to my flat for a nightcap, so to speak? Probably in the form of hot cocoa?”

“If you’re going to live in the US, you have to call it an apartment,” Britta corrects him. “Otherwise you sound pretentious.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Duncan scoffs.

“Anyway, I’d love to,” she replies. “I have my car. If you give me directions, I can meet you there.”

He does, and they do. His apartment is small but cozy, with soccer memorabilia strewn here and there, and a few boxes that aren’t yet unpacked. Duncan starts making the cocoa as soon as she gets there.

They sit on the couch with steaming mugs. Duncan has an electric fireplace that he turns on with a remote control, and Britta is amazed at how cozy the whole thing is.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” she asks suddenly, blowing on her cocoa.

“No,” Duncan says. “That is, I’m interested in you as a human of the female persuasion who I happen to be attracted to. But I wouldn’t attempt to coerce you into anything. I’m not that person anymore.”

“Oh,” Britta says, surprised. “Okay. Well. In that case, carry on.”

Duncan raises an eyebrow.

“Are you saying…”

“That you have a chance? Yes. But you should probably scoot closer. We’re not even touching yet.”

A small voice in her head asks her if this is a good idea. But she’s a grown adult, and sober, and not sad. She thinks that should be enough evidence that her judgement is sound and she can trust herself. When Duncan moves so that their thighs are touching, she sets her cocoa down and kisses him.

Things move quickly after that, and they leave a trail of clothes on the way to the bedroom. Duncan lives alone, but he still makes sure to close the door before they fall into bed together.

In the morning, he makes bagels and she stumbles into the kitchen in one of his shirts and not much else. He pours orange juice, and it’s a comfortable breakfast, just the two of them.

“Britta,” he asks after a while. “Are you still taking classes?”

“Not right now,” she says. “I need a few more credits, I’m just having a hard time figuring out which ones. And then I need to decide what to do when I finish at Greendale.”

“I could help you with that, you know,” Duncan says. “I know the psychology department like the back of my hand. And I could help you research programs, if you're interested in continuing your schooling.”

“Would you?” she asks, eyes wide. “That would be a huge help.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he says. “I want to see you succeed. I think it would make you happy, and you deserve that.”

“Have you always been this sweet?” she asks, pursing her lips and tilting her head.

“No,” he admits. “It’s a relatively recent development.”

“It’s a good one,” she says. “You and Jeff keep up on those soda dates.”

“We will,” says Duncan, smiling. 

He leans over and kisses her on the forehead.

She likes that.


End file.
